


Debasing the Prince (And Other Inappropriate Decisions)

by orphan_account



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Canon Compliant, Clothing Kink, Ellen gives embarrassing powerpoint presentations, Explicit Sexual Content, Glasses kink, Henry is a power bottom pass it on, I'm a punster, Inappropriate Use Of A Tie, Inappropriate booty calls, M/M, Not really though, Post-Canon, Rimming, kind of sorry, lots of puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 16:43:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19338493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Henry in a suit and tie turns Alex into a combination of the heart-eyed and drooling emojis. He can't help it that the goddamned prince of England looks glorious all dressed up.So he meets him in his bedroom and does super inappropriate things with the tie and the prince. This is basicallyTale of the Debauchery of a Prince™.





	Debasing the Prince (And Other Inappropriate Decisions)

Fuck, Alex is doing it again, eyeing Henry in his perfectly pressed suit, a glorious shade of blue that contrasts his skin so wonderfully. Alex tips his head to the side and lets his gaze slide over Henry’s face, the faint freckles dusting his cheeks and down. His throat moves as he swallows, head turned to the side as he laughs, genuinely laughs at something Nora is whispering into his ear.

God his throat is even gorgeous, impossibly smooth skin dipping down under his button-down shirt. His dark red tie is a perfect Windsor knot and Alex drifts into a daydream of curling his hand around the tie and pulling Henry in-

“You’ve got a,” June reaches out and swipes at Alex’s chin with her fingers. “Bit of drool there, Alex.”

He clears his throat and settles back in his chair, dragging his eyes from Henry, seated further down the table with Nora. He _had_ been sitting next to Alex until Nora dragged him off with a fire burning in her eyes. Something Alex didn’t want to ask about.

“No one actually drools because they find someone attractive, Bug.”

“Well, mark this up as the first time in history then.”

Alex shoots her a glare but turns and fixes his gaze on Henry again, swallowing thickly. The corner of his mouth pinches as he smiles, and Alex wants so badly to climb over the table and kiss it off his face. Impractical, probably, so he decides against it.

After all, ruining a $75,000 cake and then having an international sex scandal was probably enough damage to his reputation for one lifetime.

“Where’s Pez?” Alex asks, not bothering to turn and look at June as he speaks to her, hoping that Henry can feel the heated gaze from down the way. “Shouldn’t you two be off making out somewhere?”

“What was that line you said Zahra used on you? _Some of us know about discretion_?”

Alex rolls his eyes as June leans in, resting her chin against his shoulder. “It’s not my fault someone was literally stalking me to take pictures.”

“Lucky for you there weren’t any of you naked.”

Henry finally looks his way, eyes gleaming. The corner of his mouth lifts into that mischevious smile he saves for times like this-Alex eye-fucking him from across the room is a common occurrence-and he tilts his head toward the door with a silent _meet me in the hall?_

Their relationship is no secret. Everyone across the globe is aware that Alex and England’s golden boy are boning. That didn’t stop them from tiptoeing around during public events, as Ellen had already sat them both down in her office with two separate powerpoints on two separate occasions.

HAVING SEX WITH THE PRINCE OF ENGLAND: BUT SAFELY

“Mom, we’ve been having sex for _over a year_ , I don’t think-”

“There’s never a bad time to remind your children about safe sex.”

Alex had covered his face with the palm of his hand, Henry rigid and tense beside him as Ellen rambled on about condoms and lube. It was hard to embarrass Alex, but Henry was an alarming shade of red that only seemed to deepen the longer the slideshow went on. Alex had reached out to grab his hand and squeeze it, but after the presentation was over, it had taken a few hours of sweet talking to get Henry to calm down.

The other powerpoint was addressing a picture that appeared in a magazine and all over the internet. Alex with a purple bruise just below his ear, one that he hadn’t even noticed until June pointed it out. At that point, he figured it would look silly to wear a turtleneck sweater in the summertime, so he only hoped no one would notice it.

Well, they had.

LEAVING LOVEBITES: BEST KEPT BELOW THE COLLAR (OR IN HIGHSCHOOL)

That one was even worse than the first. Henry had covered his face with his hands and bowed forward, the tips of his ears scarlet as Ellen tried to keep her lips from turning into a smile. She seemed to enjoy embarrassing Henry more than she did giving actual informative presentations on anything that didn’t involve their sex life.

That was the last one, though, as Henry had left the room halfway through. Alex found him in one of the multiple bathrooms, sitting in the bathtub with his hands over his ears as if he were holding in the steam from the heat of his cheeks.

It was rather adorable albeit hysterical.

Henry slips from his chair after whispering something to Nora who immediately fixes her stare on Alex. Alex just smiles at her, batting his lashes. She knows. Everyone knows. June probably knows as she watches Henry leave.

“I hope you two make it past the hallway this time,” June says, lifting her head from Alex’s shoulder.

Alex waits a beat before getting up from his chair, rounding the long table without a backward glance. Ellen reaches a hand out to him and he brushes his fingers across it before continuing, ignoring the glare Zahra is trying to pin him with.

Last dinner they had, the two of them left the room and only made it halfway down the hallway before Alex shoved Henry into the wall with his tie caught in his fist. They’d knocked into a tiny table, a vase older than the two of them combined crashing to the floor.

June had later explained that the vase was one of Eleanor Roosevelt’s and it was a bit unbecoming of them to shatter it because they were too horny to make into bed first.

This time, though, Henry isn’t waiting in the hallway. Maybe the haunting memory of his mother’s presentations and the scolding about the vase were enough to make him more aware of where they chose to kiss. Alex heads down the hallway, gaze pausing on the table where there was once a vase, before continuing onward toward his room. His room where Henry is probably perched on his bed and waiting for him.

He is, of course, perched on the bed and waiting for him, running his hand over the comforter spread across it.

“Not in the mood to break any vases today, are we?”

Henry looks up at him, lips splitting into a grin. “I don’t want the next slideshow presentation to have a horrifying title about breaking precious antiques.”

“I can see it already, Precious White House Artifacts: Meant to Be Admired, Not Fucked On.”

“We didn’t actually do anything on top of the vase.”

“You knocked it over with your ass, babe.”

“You _shoved_ me into it. I have never in my life seen you so aggressive. You almost choked me with my tie!”

Alex grins at this, stepping into his room before clicking the door shut and locked behind him. “Sometimes I wonder if that’s something you would actually enjoy.”

There’s that blush again, starting at the base of his throat (and probably over his chest, because Alex knows _a lot_ about that chest blush). It creeps up over his neck and up his face until Henry lowers his gaze to the floor. “I think the tie is more your thing.”

“Is it?” Alex asks, stepping closer. He isn’t the one who actually wears ties if he can help it. He chooses to wear a simple polo shirt and chinos, not an entire suit and tie affair. “Who is the one wearing the tie?”

Then he’s slotting himself between Henry’s legs, bracketing himself with them. His hands drift up the length of Henry’s abdomen, fingers curling tentatively around the tie in question.

“A lot of people wear ties.”

“Yeah, sure, but none of them are a walking wet dream when they do.”

The implications are clear, Henry lifting his eyes to meet Alex’s, tongue running along his lips. “Yeah?”

Oh, and he’s said it before, the thing about the tie being so frustratingly sexy. He’s even tied Henry to the bedpost with it before. It’s clear that they _both_ share a “thing” for it, but Alex likes to play the antagonist. Ruffled and shy Henry is his favorite flavor of prince.

Alex gives the tie a little tug, Henry leaning forward to press their lips together. And every time they kiss it’s always different; always a different slide of their lips, a different press of Henry’s tongue against the seam of his mouth. Everything that makes up the two of them is shared, all the laughter, the whispers, the soft and ever-present grip of Henry’s hand on his own, the sunshine in his hair, the faint freckles on his nose.

It’s slow and sweet like molasses-Henry sliding his tongue into Alex’s mouth who grips his tie even harder in turn. He wants them to be infinitesimally closer, their molecules combined until everything in the universe narrows down to just this. Just their lips moving together and the sweet taste of champagne on Henry’s tongue.

They pull apart, just a hair’s breadth between their lips as Alex begins to loosen Henry’s tie. He’s slow about it, loosening it from around his throat before sliding the knot apart with deft fingers. Henry closes his eyes and simply breathes, long lashes splayed across his cheekbones as Alex stays ever close, watching him.

Once he has the tie undone, Alex slides it between his fingers, over the soft material before he grins and presses a quick kiss to Henry’s lips. “Do you trust me?” He asks.

Henry opens his eyes, his impossibly brilliant, shining eyes, irises nearly drowning in the depth of his pupils. He nods, curtly, with a whispered “Yes.”

Alex steps just a bit back, enough to leave more space between their heated bodies. He curls the tie around his fist another time before he tips his head to the side. “I want to tie you up again.”

And _God_ , the flicker across Henry’s face is so revealing. He’s all quiet words and poise to the public, but here, in the privacy of Alex’s room, he unfurls like a flower. A marvelous, brilliantly colored flower with velvety petals in vibrant hues of blue. Blue is everything Henry is: dark and maddening midnight blue, soft and pretty sky blue, and even bright and bold azure.

“Okay,” Henry says softly, but his eyes darken as they dart toward Alex’s nightstand. “But I have a request.”

Alex is already shoving Henry up the bed and onto his back after he toes off his shoes. He lands in the pillows with a soft huff of surprise, Alex climbing over him, straddling him. “Anything within the realm of possibility, _baby_.”

Henry’s breath catches in his chest at the tender use of his pet name before he shifts beneath Alex’s weight and smiles, soft and slow. “I want you to wear your glasses before you completely debase me.”

Alex narrows his eyes and glances off toward his glasses, sat upon his nightstand with a stack of books he may or may not have actually read at any point. He already knew of Henry’s fixation on his glasses, but to have it so blatantly spoken aloud makes his ears ring. It sends a frisson of excitement coursing down his spine as he realizes that Henry is in a place where he’s comfortable enough to explain his fantasies and what exactly makes him tick.

And, obviously, Alex in his glasses is what makes him tick.

“You want me to briefly put them on and call you a slew of names like _sniveling git_ or _bloody tosser_?”

“No,” Henry says, shifting again. His eyes glitter in the lamplight before he lifts his hips, just a little. Alex can feel _everything_ . “I want you to wear them the whole time. And refrain from saying _bloody tosser_ again because your British accent is horrible.”

Alex gasps in mock offense before leaning over to grasp for his glasses from the table. He slips them onto his nose before settling back in place, squirming a bit until he can feel Henry’s erection pressing against his ass. “If you don’t like my British accent, you’re daft as a..” Alex pauses, trying to remember the British term he’d learned from Bea. “Tree?”

“Bush.”

“Daft as a bush.”

“Honestly, it’s really bad, you should stop before I lose my interest.”

Alex deliberately grinds his hips down into Henry before grinning widely. “I don’t think that’s much of a problem, Your Highness.”

Henry blushes again, faint pink dusting across his features, but he says nothing more. Alex takes Henry’s hands from his hips and moves them up over his head, pressing them down into the pillows. They’re close again, breaths mingling as they drink one another in. Henry with his strong, perfect nose and his angled jaw and his bright eyes. The way he’s looking at Alex makes something in his belly warm and tighten.

“Why is it that you like my glasses?”

Henry stiffens but doesn’t look away. Alex studies him carefully as he opens his mouth a few times before he summons a response. “They make you look smart in an annoyingly sexy kind of way.”

“I am always smart.”

“That may be true, but the glasses accentuate that and I- I don’t know. I just like them.”

Alex tips his head down and nuzzles his face into the side of Henry’s. He opens his mouth and drags it along his skin until he reaches Henry’s ear, his bottom lip catching on his earlobe. “You’re a kinky bastard, you know that?”

Henry shivers beneath him but lets out a laugh that’s more of a puff of air. He surrenders himself to Alex, letting him suck his earlobe between his lips as he wraps the tie around Henry’s wrists. “You’re the one tying me up right now.”

Alex rocks his hips again, feeling Henry’s length through both of their clothing, persistently hard. “You like it,” he replies, sitting back up to secure the tie around Henry’s wrists. He gives it a test pull, deeming it strong enough to hold, before gliding his hands down the length of Henry’s bent arms, over the smooth material of his suit jacket. He wistfully thinks that maybe he should have removed it first, but seeing Henry in his full suit is doing _things_ to his brain.

“You have a clothing fetish, I have an-Oh, I don’t know, an intellectual kink.”

Alex doesn’t argue with him, choosing instead to focus on plucking the buttons of Henry’s shirt from the little holes. He tugs it from his pants and pushes it open, relishing the feeling of his warm, smooth chest as he runs his hands across it.

Henry could very easily move his hands from their place on the pillows above his head, but Alex knows he enjoys being at his mercy even if he won’t outright say it. Something about handing over the reigns of his control to someone else for a change; someone that isn’t himself or his grandmother or Philip or whoever else deems themselves worthy of telling him what to do.

He likes it when Alex takes control, even if he is quite the power bottom. Because, in Alex’s vision, Henry is every documented description of a power bottom except when they do this.

And oh, Alex loves it when Henry lets him play the dominant role.

Alex fumbles with his belt, then the button and zipper of his pants before sliding them down Henry’s legs along with his boxers, just enough to tug his cock free of its confines. It’s still the prettiest one he’s ever seen, hard and flushed pink and absolutely the most perfect size.

He takes his time, running his hands up Henry’s exposed thighs, over the fine golden hairs and up, over his jutting hip bones. He touches the bones with the pads of his fingers, marveling in how soft they feel, just like the ridges of his spine. Then he lets his fingers catch in the hair below Henry’s navel, eyes following the movement of his hands as he takes it all in. This will never grow old-exploring Henry’s body every time he has the chance to take his clothes off. He’s undeniably gorgeous, perfectly muscled with a few moles and freckles being the only marks on his otherwise flawless skin.

Alex has moved down Henry’s body, finally tugging his pants and his boxers off the rest of the way before dropping them off the end of the bed. He thinks of that perfectly tailored suit in a crumpled heap on his carpet and shivers. He’s the only one who gets to do this. And to the goddamned prince of England, at that.

Glancing up, Alex takes note of Henry, staring down at him with his piercing gaze, bottom lip caught between his teeth. He stays still for Alex, spreading his legs apart so he can fit right between them as if that’s where he belongs. It kind of is, he thinks to himself, as they’re like two pieces of a puzzle finally slotting together to finish a completed piece.

Alex slides down lower, letting out a snort as he slides his fingers into one of Henry’s socks before ripping it off. He places a quick kiss to the arch of his foot before moving to the other, removing the sock and kissing that arch as well. Then he kisses both of his ankles, hands gliding up Henry’s calves and then over his thighs, leaving little wet kisses along his skin as he slides back up.

It’s kind of a picturesque moment, seeing Henry spread eagle on his bed with his hands tied above his head in only his suit jacket and button down. He even still has his ridiculous cufflinks on, but damn if that doesn’t tighten the coil in Alex’s stomach.

Straight up debauchery of the prince is what this is.

Alex adjusts his glasses with the simple press of his index finger as he crouches over Henry, his face mere inches from his cock, tip glistening with a bead of precum. “What do you want me to do?”

Henry worries his lip between his teeth before lifting his hips just an inch. No, that won’t do, Alex prefers it when he’s a bit more vocal about his desires. Even if it makes him blush furiously-no, probably _especially_ because it makes him blush furiously.

“Use your words, baby.”

Henry turns his face to the side, burying it in the material of his suit jacket as he squeezes his eyes shut. Then he mumbles out a barely audible _I want your mouth on me_ in his sexy, posh accent and it’s all Alex can do to keep from moaning.

“Your wish is my command,” Alex says before dropping down between Henry’s legs, one hand splayed across his thigh, the other grabbing hold of his cock. He drags his tongue across the crown of it before opening his mouth and swallowing him down. He loves the feeling of it as it skids across the roof of his mouth, soft and warm and heavy on his tongue. He opens his eyes after a pause and looks up, admiring the sheer pleasure written across Henry’s face.

His lips have parted, the bottom one red and slick with saliva from being chewed on so nervously. His face is flushed pink and his eyes are dark and heavily lidded, carefully watching everything Alex is doing.

Alex moves his hand, making up for the bit of Henry’s cock that he can’t fit into his mouth because it’s already as far down his throat as he can get it to be, and closes his eyes. He moves with sloppy enthusiasm, suctioning his lips around the shaft as he sucks it back down after a swish of his tongue over the tip. It’s a good pace, he thinks, one that has Henry bucking his hips, thigh muscles clenching as he begins to fall apart.

He knows he isn’t fast enough to actually get Henry off. He’s already learned that like the back of his hand: how fast he needs to move, how tight he needs to suck, exactly where to grip the base of his cock with short steady strokes until Henry comes down his throat at the tail end of a strangled cry. No, he’s taking his time. Deliberately going just slow enough to force Henry to writhe in frustration.

He stops, pulling Henry’s cock from his mouth with a wet pop. He strokes it slowly, meticulously, running his thumb over the ridge of it as he pulls back the foreskin. This is his favorite part, when smiling, picture-perfect Henry dissolves into a slurry of curse words to get Alex to knock it off and stop toying with him.

“I-” Henry’s breath shutters when Alex’s hand squeezes his cock. “Hate you.”

Alex beams up at him and rubs Henry’s cock against his cheek, smearing it with a mixture of saliva and precum. “You don’t.”

He slides his hands under Henry’s thighs before forcing them up and back. Henry adjusts himself to be in a more comfortable position but obliges, leaving his legs where Alex pushed them. He knows it’s harder for Henry to stay like this without the use of his hands, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it when Henry began to tremble from holding them there for so long.

He spreads Henry’s cheeks with his hands, looking up at the pure bliss on Henry’s face before running his tongue along his crevice, over his hole, up towards his balls. The moan that Henry had been holding onto finally trips over his lips, loud and wanton as he closes his eyes.

Alex knows exactly where to lick, where to dip his tongue to make Henry’s toes curl. He’s slow about it, though, not jumping right into sliding his tongue into Henry’s hole. No, he just runs his tongue over it, feeling it clench and unclench under his ministrations.

“Alex,” Henry rasps. He looks up to see Henry’s brows creased in the middle, lips pursed.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

But he says nothing else, Alex smiling before slipping his tongue into Henry’s warm heat, feeling the muscles tighten around it. He’s loud when he lets go, moaning and squirming and begging. “Fuck me already, you arsehole,” is one of his favorite lines.

Alex can feel his own cock trapped in his pants, uncomfortable but semi-forgotten as he eats Henry out like he’s the best pastry he’s ever had in his life. He tastes of soap and something earthy, and another thing he can’t quite place his finger on, something so Henry that it doesn’t need a description. He can’t get enough of it, of his hole tightening around his tongue and the octave-higher-than-usual curse words flying from Henry’s mouth.

Stopping abruptly, Alex kneads Henry’s ass cheeks with his fingers before sitting up straight, kneeling as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

Alex cards his fingers through his hair and fixes his glasses again, loving the longing look Henry is fixing him with.

Leaning over the bed, Alex digs in the drawer of his nightstand before procuring a bottle of lube. Henry watches him silently, chest heaving still, as Alex uncaps the bottle and spills some over his fingers.

“Ready?” Alex asks, rubbing the tip of his finger over Henry’s hole. Henry nods, lip between his teeth again. His thighs are already trembling, and Alex grips his left ankle before turning his face and kissing the knobby bone before flicking it with his tongue. He holds it still as he pushes a finger into Henry.

One finger steadily becomes two, Alex slipping them over Henry’s prostate. Watching Henry’s face twist in pleasure is so gratifying, every feature scrunching up as he tries to hone in on the pleasure over the uncomfortable stretch of Alex’s fingers. He knows when he finds the right spot as Henry’s mouth drops open.

For a few long minutes, Alex does this: dragging his fingers over that sensitive bundle of nerves, kissing along Henry’s ankle with an open mouth, watching Henry tilt his head back against the pillows in a silent cry of pleasure.

Then he stops, pulling his fingers out and letting go of Henry’s leg to undo his own pants, to shuck off his shirt, to actually kick off his shoes that he never bothered to remove before. Henry’s cock has softened, but his desire is clear in every tiny movement. Alex knows he’s itching to move his hands and touch him when that heavy gaze slides down his now naked chest.

Once Alex has completely shed his clothing, he crouches over Henry and kisses him, letting him taste himself on Alex’s tongue. Most people would be offended by this, he was sure, but Henry gives him throaty little mewls and licks into his mouth as if he is hungry for it.

And that, that was exactly one of the reasons why having sex with the fucking prince of England was probably one of his best decisions. Being able to peel back his mask and see him for everything that he is makes Alex’s heart soar. Pliant and willing and soft and warm beneath his touches. Those growls that start low in Henry’s chest like a purr when they kiss.

Henry’s legs wrap around Alex’s waist as their kiss deepens, as he slides his tongue over Alex’s and breathes heavily through his nose. Alex lets him, lets his tongue search for the taste of himself like it’s candy as he rocks his hips, cock rubbing against Henry’s balls.

They break apart for air, Henry’s eyes wide and full of excitement, tongue tracing over his bottom lip.

Alex stares at him for a lingering moment before sitting back on his haunches, Henry’s legs dropping open with his feet flat against the mattress, knees bent. Alex reaches for the bottle of lube again, pouring more into the palm of his hand, slicking it over his cock as he looks down at Henry, lips parted, glasses sliding down his nose.

Every inch of Henry’s skin that he can see is flushed pink. His nipples are even pinker, hardened nubs that he wants to wrap his lips around. He will, he thinks to himself. God, will he.

Leaning down over Henry again, he brushes his lips over his ear. Henry shivers. “Ready, baby?”

He feels Henry nod, feels his legs lift up and back again, feels him scoot his ass down so Alex can slide inside of him. And then he is, one arm reaching down to line his cock up to sink inside of Henry, face buried in that soft part of him where his neck meets his shoulder. He braces himself with his other arm on the side of Henry’s head, on the mass of pillows. And when he sits back just a little, he flattens his hand against the mattress and moves his other hand up Henry’s body, touching his bound wrists.

“I love you like this,” Alex whispers. Henry’s hair is a halo around his head. His eyes are bright and his cheeks are pink, so pink. He loves him in every way, but Alex doesn’t say that. Somehow he knows he doesn’t need to, he knows that Henry is aware.

Slow and steady is how he always starts, just sinking deep into Henry’s tight heat and pulling nearly all the way out. It makes Henry whine and arch his back, trying to force Alex impossibly deeper. He takes him apart slowly, carefully, meticulously. They have all the time in the world for this. There’s no one waiting outside the door for them. There are no hidden cameras that they need to hide from.

They have forever.

“Alex, please,” Henry says. Well, really, it’s more of a gasp as his body jerks up the bed with a particularly deep thrust.

“Please what?” Alex says, hand moving up Henry’s hot stomach, chest, stopping at his throat. He feels the patter of his fluttering pulse against his fingers.

“You _know_ what, you-”

Alex shuts him up with a kiss, giving his lower lip a quick nibble before he kisses down Henry’s jaw. He stays like this, buried deep inside of Henry, just barely rocking his hips. Henry sighs in contentment when he finds that spot below his ear.

He paves a path of heated, open-mouthed kisses down his throat, Henry's head tossed back to allow Alex easier access. He finds a nipple and sucks it into his mouth, whirling his tongue over it. He never stops rocking his hips, deep and slow. And God, Henry feels amazing, muscles clenching and unclenching around his cock, back lifted from the bed. His hands have slid down to his sides, inside of his shirt and jacket, gripping Henry’s waist with bruising fingers.

Alex finishes with one nipple and starts on the other, lavishing it with long drags of his tongue. Henry is cursing quietly, but it’s all so very British that it kind of just goes in one ear and out the other. Alex is almost certain that the words he’s using are not pet names, but at the moment, he can’t be assed to care.

“Oh,” Henry breathes as Alex sits back on his haunches, pushing his hands into Henry’s thighs. He kneads the trembling muscles and holds them there, allowing Henry to relax just a little. “ _Oh_ ,” He breathes again, Alex pulling back before slamming back inside. Now is when he hurries, now is when he chases his release with quick thrusts.

He’s not really one for words, Alex, gritting his teeth as he focuses on the slap of their skin and the headboard slamming into the wall. At the moment he doesn’t care if anyone hears. Nothing matters but the stretch of Henry’s hole around him and the little gasps and moans that are tumbling from his lips. He wants more, he needs more, and _fuck-_

Henry whines and lifts his hips, reminding Alex that his hands are bound, and although he’s able to drop his hands and grip his cock, he’s waiting for Alex’s word. With that thought, Alex slams forward and pauses.

“Touch yourself,” He gasps, staying still as Henry moves his hands. The tie around them hasn’t loosened at all, and Alex is quite proud of his knot work. He helps undo it though, so Henry can shake his hands back to life before wrapping those long, lithe fingers around his dripping length.

Alex starts again, Henry trying so desperately to time his strokes with Alex’s thrusts. He moans Alex’s name along with every slap of their skin, and at the crescendo of his sounds, he comes. Thick ropes of it land across his stomach, his chest, and over his shirt and suit jacket. The sight of it makes Alex’s toes curl, fingers digging into Henry’s thighs before he slumps forward, hips slowing to a stop as he finishes with a growl.

With his face buried in the crook of Henry’s neck he inhales the spicy scent of Henry’s cologne mixed with sweat and sex. His glasses have slid down his nose and they’re probably getting smeared with sweat, but he doesn’t care. He cares about nothing but the lazy, long limbs wrapping around him, holding him close.

“I really do love those glasses,” Henry says quietly, breaking the silence that had settled over them.

Alex laughs. He can feel Henry’s come drying between them, an uncomfortable feeling, but he needs to rest for just a moment-he can’t feel his legs and he’s certain he’s lost all the bones in his body. “Your ties always do it for me.”

“I know.”

Henry turns his face and places a kiss against Alex’s forehead. “Do you really have to wear one to every dinner you’re invited to?”

Henry tightens his grip on Alex and lets out a puff of air. “Would you still be so eager to rip my clothes off if I didn’t?”

Alex sits up at this, Henry’s arms dropping back to his sides. Alex reaches down and grabs them both, sliding them up over his head again, where they were before. He kisses Henry, slowly, languidly, savoring the taste of his lips. “God, yeah, I would.”

It’s not a lie. No matter what Henry wears Alex can’t focus on much but the thought of ripping them off. The tie kind of just seals the deal. The tie is just...icing on the cake or whatever the saying is.

When they finally get out of bed, it’s only just a little past eight. The dinner is still in full swing, but everyone has moved to another room to sip on cocktails and gossip. Zahra stares at Alex when they both enter the room.

Probably because Henry had to put on one of Alex’s polos. It doesn’t quite fit him, but it was one that was a size too large for Alex to actually wear. It still is far too tight at the shoulders, but Alex isn’t complaining.

That shoulder to waist ratio is mind-boggling.

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INAPPROPRIATE TIMES FOR BOOTY CALLS: HOW TO PROPERLY BE THE FIRST FAMILY

**Author's Note:**

> UHH.. So I read this book and wrote this fic in less than 24 hours total. No regretti.
> 
> I'm on [Tumblr!](http://www.lecheesie.tumblr.com)


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